


Indubitably

by thecookiemomma



Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BAMF!John, Gen, Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://abundantlyqueer.tumblr.com/post/28200023355/steven-moffat-au-sherlock-and-john-meet-james">this</a> Tumblr gifset and post.  </p>
<p>James and John have a bit of a history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indubitably

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [AU: Sherlock and John Meet James Bond](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/10334) by 'stephen-moffat' and 'abundantlyqueer'. 



> I know some of this stretches the bounds of realism as far as actual SOP in combat, etc, but it's a fic, okay? Also, Thanks to the lovely 'abundantlyqueer' for permission to use the lines in italics (I did change them to past tense -- three words changed), and ellenscult for the fic idea. I tried to take it into slash territory, but it wouldn't go. If you have enough imagination and interest, you can drag it there quite easily, and with my full support.

The sun beat down on the sand, and Captain John H. Watson was glad for any sort of shade, no matter how small. He pulled his helmet off, wiped the sweat from his brow and grinned stupidly at the man standing next to him with an umbrella open and held over his head. “Well, that's an interesting little thing, yeah?” He noticed a few extra buttons, and pointedly _did not_ ask what they were for. 

 

“And, you, Captain,” drawled a melodious voice, “are far too observant for your own good. Now. If you please, would you drink this? It is that delightful concoction the Americans came up with. Why they named it after water-dwelling reptiles, we'll never know.” 

 

“Oh, thanks.” John greedily drank the Gatorade and immediately felt much better. “Think you might've saved my life, mate.” 

 

“Indubitably.” The man gave a small, knowing smile. “You are a medical man, sir. Do not let yourself be so exposed again.” 

 

“Right. Thanks. If I can ever return the favor, do let me know?” John shook his head, then finished off the rest of the Gatorade slowly, letting it do its job. The man remained silent, but John had one more question. “Just so I know who's saved my life, what's your name?” 

 

“Bond. James Bond.” 

 

* * * 

 

A couple months later, John's squad was called in to infiltrate a high-risk area to pull out an injured “person-of-importance.” Most of the time, John hated these jobs, because it was usually a dignitary or dignitary's kid who had wandered into somewhere he shouldn't be, and the consequences were often horrible for everyone involved. 

 

This time, though, the job was quick, fairly easy, and John saw why they'd been called in. He recognized the tall man as soon as he saw the guy's hands. After all, the guy had held an umbrella over his head just a short time ago. “What have you done to yourself, then,” John murmured. 

 

“Captain, you know this man?” One of his squad came up beside him, and between the two of them, they started triage procedures. 

 

John just chuckled and answered his XO with one word: “Indubitably.” 

 

* * * 

Luckily, the wounds weren't deep, but John's team did save his life. The place blew up not fifteen minutes after they evacuated him. James lay in the hospital tent for three weeks, slowly recuperating. He flirted horribly with the nurses, and several of the doctors were fed up with it. John found it amusing. 

 

“You're causing trouble, James,” John sat down in the seat beside James' cot. “Bothering the nurses, all that. I'm getting reports of your behavior.” His eyes twinkled, though he held his expression.

 

“From the nurses themselves?” James shifted a little, stretching his arm to exercise the wound a bit more. 

 

“Nope. Not a one from them, otherwise, we'd be having a very different conversation.” John grinned outright now. “Just give it a rest when those two doctors are around, alright? It'd be a lifesaver.” They looked at each other, then the agent began to chuckle. John shook his head and began laughing with him. The two of them laughed for several long minutes, drawing the attention of two nurses, a doctor and a couple orderlies. 

 

“This is getting to be a habit, Captain Watson.” 

 

“Indubitably.” 

 

* * * 

After James had healed up, John got himself into a bit of a tight spot. A patrol had found an IED, and John's team were sent to pull the squad out. John led his team to the patrol, began working on them, and then one of the sergeants called to him, signaling the presence of the enemy, and John's first reaction was, 'Oh, shit.' They sped up their work, moving the worst of the injured into the ambulance as quickly as they could, and turned to fight the enemy, only to have a man land --  from who knows where -- in front of them, spray something in the direction of the enemy, and then cover his mouth with a mask. The patients were all in the ambulance by this time, and all of the medical personnel had masks on, so they remained unaffected. John shook his head. Once again, he recognized the man landing amidst them. 

 

“James, you complete and utter wanker.” John called, laughing. “What was that?” 

 

“Experimental. Shouldn't bother you with the masks on.” He gave a half smile, and John nodded. 

 

“Hello again,” John's XO stuck his hand out. “I know my captain can be a bit of a git, but thanks for the save. If you've got the time, come back with us, and we'll buy you a round.” 

 

“Oi,” John protested the insult, but only lightly. 

 

“Only if it's a martini. Shaken, not stirred.” James stretched himself to his full height, and pushed a button on his sleeve. Something behind him whirred, and John decided he'd rather not know. 

 

Laughing, they all moved efficiently to get out of the line of fire. Hours later, after John had patched up the men, he sat beside James in the Officer's Club (or the tent that passed for it, at least). “Thanks again, James, we really do appreciate it.” 

 

“Think nothing of it, John. One does what one must for his allies.” James gave him a winning smile, and leaned forward a bit. “You are plainly exhausted.” John snorted. “Come. You need to shower and sleep.” 

 

“Yeah, probably, though I'm not sure how much sleeping I'll do yet. Still pretty wired.” 

 

“I think you'll find that once you get settled down, you'll sleep perfectly well.” 

  


“You're probably right, again, ta.” 

 

“Indubitably.” 

 

* * * 

 

That was the last John saw of James. Several months later, John was hit during one of his missions, and was invalided home. He chuckled to himself as he recuperated, wondering from time to time where his guardian angel was. When he got back to England, he received a message that held some good advice. It was that advice that led him to talk to Ella, take that bedsit, and think about starting a blog. When he ran into Mike that day, he knew things were about to change again, but had no idea the extent of the change. 

 

When he and Sherlock were driven to the palace, John looked around, his sense of danger prickling just a bit. Part of it was the fact that his mad flatmate had chosen to make the trip attired in only a sheet (which was hilarious, but still...), and part of it was something else. John sat there, listening to the brothers argue, and then, he heard a voice he hadn't heard for years. 

 

“ _Oh, here’s trouble,” Bond said as he came striding into the reception room._

 

“ _I’m perfectly happy to leave,” Sherlock said. “In fact, I’d have been perfectly happy not to come at all.”_

 

“ _Not you, sonny,” Bond said, his scowl turning to a crooked smirk as he walked straight past Sherlock. “John Watson, you bloody devil. Who let you in here?”_

 

“James!” John stood, one part of his mind noting his flatmate's surprised expression. He shook the agent's hand. Mycroft chose just that moment to walk back into the room, and looked between them. 

 

“Holmes,” Bond nodded his greeting. 

 

“Double-oh...” Mycroft cut himself off, and stroked his chin for a moment. “Ah, yes, of course.” 

 

John, by now used to the way Holmses communicated, grinned. “Yeah, pretty much. And then it became a pattern. Either figuratively or literally.” 

 

“Well, then, you are well-acquainted, and that makes this quite a bit easier.” 

 

Neither Holmes brother understood why both men spoke together and then started laughing. “Indubitably.” 

 

 


End file.
